Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [42]
“Will you stay away from Napoli and your mother?” I replied.
“That’s what I thought.” He left.
8
I got two phone calls late the following afternoon, both of them important.
An old buddy from the Actors Studio called and told me about a role that he’d heard had just unexpectedly opened up after the actress who’d been cast in it had gone parasailing on Saturday and wound up in traction.
Naturally, I phoned my agent.
And while I was on hold on my landline, Lucky called my cell phone.
“We got a big problem, kid,” he said. “There’s another doppelgangster on the loose.”
“What?” I sat down with a thud. “Who? How do you know?”
“We can’t talk on the phone,” he said. “Don’t they teach you nothin’ at acting school?”
“But you just said there’s another dopp—”
“Meet me in an hour at the place we met before.”
I frowned. “The place we met bef . . . Oh! You mean the church?”
He sighed in exasperation. “Yeah. The church.”
“In an hour?” I glanced at the clock and thought about my date this evening. “How long will this take?”
“It’ll take as long as it takes.” Lucky sounded terse. “And bring your friend.”
“My friend?” I said blankly.
“Your friend who’s an expert with this kind of problem,” he prodded.
“Oh! You mean Max?”
“Jesus, don’t use names on the phone!” Lucky snapped before he hung up on me.
I closed my cell phone. Then I hung up the landline, figuring I’d call my agent again later. I doubted I’d have time to come back home before my date, so I called Lopez. I got his voice mail.
“I have to go out,” I said. “So don’t come to my place. I’ll meet you at Raoul’s.”
I was still a bit scratched and blue, so I was thorough about applying makeup. Then I dressed to kill, in a manner of speaking, and styled my hair. Hoping nothing would happen to muss me before my date, I took a cab to Max’s.
As soon as I entered the bookshop and called Max’s name, Nelli trotted up to me, face and paws stained blue, tongue lolling, tail wagging. I grabbed her shiny new collar so she wouldn’t shed on my little black dress while I explained the situation to Max.
“By all means, we must attend this meeting at once!” he agreed. “But, er, although your outfit is very attractive, it’s rather, uh . . . I mean to say, are you sure it’s suitable for church?”
“It’s suitable for a date with the man who’s on his way to being my boyfriend,” I said. “Which is where I’m headed after this meeting.”
“Ah! How is Detective Lopez?”
“A little overworked. Come on, Max, I have a cab waiting outside.”
He cast a look of undisguised horror toward the street. “A cab?”
Max hated modern transportation—cars, trains, planes, elevators, escalators. They all terrified him.
“It’ll be fine,” I said soothingly. “We’re only going to Little Italy.”
“We could walk.”
“Not in these heels,” I said. “Anyhow, we’ll barely get there in time as it is.” Recalling the way I had looked the last few times Lopez saw me, I had put real effort into my appearance today. So now I was running a little behind schedule.
I grabbed Max’s sleeve and tugged. “Say an incantation or something, but let’s go. Come on.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone,” he said to Nelli as I hauled him out of the bookstore. “Feel free to review some Latin texts if you get restless.”
“So how’s it going?” I asked as we got into the cab. “With Nelli, I mean?”
“Oh . . . there are some communication problems to work out.”
“I’ll bet.” I told our driver where to take us, then asked Max, “Have you found any good source material on our problem yet?”
His face brightened. “Yes! A colleague in Jerusalem is sending me some rare texts. They should be here within a day or two. Federal Express is a most remarkable innovation.”
“Indeed.”
“And my colleague assures me I may keep the volumes as long as I need them,” Max said, “since doppelgängerism is not a common problem in the Middle East.”
“Well,